


nothing that doesn't change

by RatsuyaSuou



Category: Persona 2
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, M/M, Sad Ending, Symbolism, the fuckin lighter and watch you know how it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:26:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25795093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RatsuyaSuou/pseuds/RatsuyaSuou
Summary: As the universe around them collapses, Tatsuya and Jun say their final goodbye.Slight fix it fic for the end of Innocent Sin. Spoilers
Relationships: Kurosu Jun/Suou Tatsuya
Comments: 4
Kudos: 56





	nothing that doesn't change

**Author's Note:**

> title is from "joker", the song in innocent sin, cuz the lyrics send me constantly. the fix is that instead of Lisa giving Tatsuya a kiss, Jun does

“I wish this could have been under happier circumstances…”

Though Jun’s voice was breathy, it still rang with its usual music- practice, Tatsuya supposed, the same as how shy, fluttering eyelashes drew attention to his hazel eyes, or a light dusting of red colored his cheeks. Jun wore unsteadiness like a glove, too fitted to question, and beautiful contrasted against his pale skin.

“Jun,” Tatsuya answered, as his chest brimmed with words he longed to say. Jun needed to understand how deeply Tatsuya loved him, how long Tatsuya had waited, how forgiven his errs had been. Emotion thrummed hot in his heart, beating loud where it pressed against Jun’s chest. 

Jun only smiled, light and mysterious, stretching his long fingers where they linked around Tatsuya’s neck. His eyes flicked up to Tatsuya’s, coy and well-rehearsed. 

Tatsuya knew, from the shine in his eyes alone, what to do next. 

He moved instinctively towards the man in his arms just as Jun met him, kissing away every thought in his head. For all of the regrets and dread, fusing in a terrible compound and sinking in Tatsuya’s stomach, Jun was here. He was in Tatsuya’s arms, warm, gentle, alive. 

As the world around them flaked, and bits of Sumaru City breezed past, Tatsuya found himself thinking of early winter.

When Tatsuya was young, he would rush outdoors at the first sight of snow, barefoot and too far aloft with childhood wonder to mind the cold. He remembered catching snowflakes with his tongue, or cupping them, tiny and intricate, in his hands. As Katsuya shouted worry from nearby, an offering of small mittens crushed in his fist, Tatsuya would watch the crystals melt against his skin. 

He didn’t understand how something so beautiful could turn to nothing so quickly.

Jun stepped backwards from a kiss both breathless and too brief, cutting short the smallest moment of peace as reality crumbled around them. 

“Our first kiss,” he said, joy dancing about his face. It pained Tatsuya to see, marred irreparably with the knowledge that the bliss was fleeting and futile. 

“Our last.” Tatsuya mused, thoughts dark. He would never be able to give Jun the same happiness again. They had but moments remaining before they were lost to one another forever, erased from even their memories, and they might as well have never kissed at all. 

Jun’s eyes dimmed just slightly, hardening with empathy as the wave of despair cast from Tatsuya washed over him. He pursed his lips, and his gaze fell to the ground momentarily, and Tatsuya knew that he understood the disaster they had both been cast in. 

“It isn’t fair.” Tatsuya said. “We fought- so hard-“ 

His voice caught, hinged on a deep grief, and he was only able to maintain his composure because Jun’s hand had wrapped around his. 

Jun stepped forwards, still clutching at Tatsuya’s hand. “We’ve succeeded thus far. Remember our dream, Tatsuya.” 

Tatsuya stared down into Jun’s eyes, and he could sense the conviction behind them- that Maya’s beliefs had never steered them wrong, that it was right to hope for a future together, and an end to the strain of separation. Tatsuya’s eyes fell onto Maya herself, however, struck down pointlessly at the final moment of their victory, and skittered to watchful Philemon, silent yet imposing. 

“Jun,” he argued weakly, but Jun shook his head. 

“For years, Tatsuya,” he said, “I suffered under a delusion, deaf to all else… it was you who became the hope I have now. Without you, I would still be lost.”

He rubbed a hand over his wrist, gliding across the face of his watch. It took only a single deft moment for Jun to unhook the watch strap from his wrist, beckoning for Tatsuya’s hand.

“Let me be your hope in turn,” Jun said, and Tatsuya surrendered himself to his grasp. He watched Jun clasp the watch about his wrist with rapt attention, holding his arm perfectly still for his partner’s work. 

There was something nostalgic about watching Jun concentrate, as strands of raven hair fell into his narrowed eyes. Tatsuya remembered the expression from the construction of sandcastles and games of house, a momentary lapse of the usual polite smile whenever Jun devised some storyline to monopolize Tatsuya’s attention.

He always had it, of course, but never more than now, as the two of them stood, the lone survivors of their world.

“You can remember to give this back, right, Taa-chan?” Jun asked, head tilted, curious eyes peeking out through his bangs. “Find your way back to me.” 

Tatsuya blinked. 

His doubts snapped, brittle and weak, under the force of Jun’s faith and affection, an understanding of Tatsuya deeper than he himself knew. Tatsuya nodded, jaw set. “I promise.” 

As naturally as breathing, practiced enough to be muscle memory, Tatsuya retrieved his lighter from his pocket. He held it out to Jun, a mirror of all those years ago; a glassy reflection in the bridal store’s display window. 

Jun had never looked more ethereal than in that moment, lighter fitted snug into his grip, less delicate than the usual blooms but carried with the same grace. He stepped backwards towards the light, looking up one final time just as a rush of apprehension spiked into Tatsuya’s heart.

“I shall not say goodbye, then.” Jun said. His stance was poised, weight shifted ever so slightly to his left, but his knuckles had turned white around the lighter. “You still have to treat me to a French dinner, remember?” 

It shook slightly in his grip.

“We will meet again.”

His voice was steady, but Tatsuya saw clearly the single tear beading in his uncovered eye. 

As Jun’s image faltered, and he began to fade from view, Tatsuya suddenly reached out, gripped by intense panic.

He would forget now, he realized, worse than exiled, and worse than dead. He had failed to appreciate what had just passed- the very last time he would see Jun’s smile, his eyes, Jun himself. 

Tatsuya would be left with a watch sans meaning, a simple, lone object, a paltry replacement for all Jun meant to him. Their quiet French dinner was but a fantasy, one Tatsuya didn't even have the luxury of remembering. 

Now that Tatsuya was alone, the weight of the impending ultimatum descended upon him. He clutched at his head, breath quickening as he mapped out every part of Jun’s face in his mind- the slender curve of his jaw, his wide, lined eyes, the bridge of his nose, all close enough to touch and imperative to remember. 

It had been so easy to act strong with Jun by his side. 

“Now…”

A hand came down on Tatsuya’s shoulder.

“We will not see each other again for some time,” Philemon’s voice sounded from behind Tatsuya. “Is there anything you would like to say before you go?”

The words echoed around the pavilion, in the walls of Tatsuya’s head. Before you go.

It was real, Tatsuya realized. Jun was completely gone, thrust behind some impenetrable veil, Sumaru City laid in ashes, and he was the last man on Earth. Every day he had spent, fighting tooth and nail, holding onto his hope, had all been for naught. He would never see Jun’s smile again, or know the touch of his skin on Tatsuya’s. 

Tatsuya’s fist clenched, nails slicing into his palm. 

How unfair it was.

He didn’t feel much of anything when his fist collided with Philemon’s face, porcelain cracking under his swing. The rage didn’t bubble or combust in his chest, but instead laid still, a festering swamp lake only glassy on the surface. 

Tatsuya watched, silent and shaking, as Philemon simply crouched to the floor, taking up his cracked mask and staring at Tatsuya with his own eyes.

Perhaps Tatsuya should have been shocked, at his replica beneath the mask, or outraged, or confused. His emotions had dulled, however, to a tepid thrum, and as Philemon spoke words he refused to listen to, Tatsuya consolidated the underlying truth he had always known, the thought hovering in his mind ever since Philemon had suggested his solution.

Tatsuya would not forget. 

He refused to play this zero-sum game. He would remember his lover, and their journey, and walk from the grave of Sumaru City armed with the knowledge that he needed to protect them all.

Tatsuya had remained strong thus far. He was the only option for the future of this world. 

As Philemon’s farewell faded, and white light flooded Tatsuya’s vision, Tatsuya found himself thinking of the first snow once more. He had forgotten the futile struggle of his childhood until this very moment, when he himself faded from memory. Now he remembered that as winter waned, and grass poked through the banks of snow, he had always longed to keep a single crystal preserved for himself, to hold it in his palm and appreciate its beauty. 

The snowflakes always melted, however.


End file.
